


A Portal In Time

by ZhoraKys



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/F, First Time, Gen, Light Angst, Portals, Romulans, Time Travel, Unfortunate Implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 05:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12881037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZhoraKys/pseuds/ZhoraKys
Summary: During a firefight with a Romulan bird of prey, Lieutenant Tasha Yar is transported back to the era of TOS. On board the original Enterprise, she meets a beautiful blonde nurse, and attempts to unravel the secrets of her time travel.





	1. Chapter 1

“Captain, we’re detecting an anomaly in holodeck three.”

The bridge was in a state of chaos as Natasha Yar said so in her most authoritative voice, a tone that boomed in her head.

“Nature of the anomaly, lieutenant?” Captain Picard didn’t turn to look at her. He was too focused on the phaser fire that lit up the viewscreen, like pyrotechnics in some absurd stage show.

“Sir it’s…” Yar squinted at her monitor, trying to make sense of the readings. A cluster of superheated molecules and photons. Flowing... backward?

“Lieutenant?”

“I don't know, sir. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Now Picard turned. “Is it a threat?”

Yar shook her head, her mouth half open in a stunted protest. “Sir… requesting permission to go down there myself. I can check it out.”

“Granted.” A pause. “Take Lieutenant Worf with you.”

“Aye, Sir.”

*****

Five minutes later, Yar, and security officers Beam, Yeung, and Nakano were running down the hall of Deck 11. Worf brought up the rear, palming his phaser.

A left turn and the door to holodeck three loomed in their vision. 

“Do you see anything, sir?” Yeung called as they slowed their pace. She was pressed against the wall to Yar’s left, phaser pointed steadily ahead.

“No. Anybody else see anything?”

Beam and Nakano shared a look. “No sir,” they said in unison.

“Worf?”

“No sir!”

They were at the entrance now. “Computer,” Yar said. The alarms cut through her voice. “Open holodeck. No program.” 

“Opening holodeck three.”

Yar expected some deafening sound, an explosion, something fiery, but instead she was engulfed in silence. The holodeck seemed normal at a glance, then everything turned upside down.

Yar felt herself falling forward into the silence, the Enterprise suddenly still and calm. She hazarded a glance at her ensigns. Nakano was holding onto the door frame with one hand, waving his phaser at nothing with the other. 

Beam was losing his balance, half-running, half-falling toward the far wall of the holodeck. Yar watched as the grid of yellow lines seemed to bend and curve inward. Beam made contact with the wall, and disappeared.

Yeung was outside Yar’s line of sight.

“Worf!” She screamed blindly, tumbling forward, unsure if her voice had made a sound outside of her own head. “Run! Get back to the bridge! Tell the--”

And then she saw only blackness. 

*****

The next thing Yar was aware of was the grit of sand in her teeth, and a dull, bodily ache like she’d been slammed against a wall. 

She opened her eyes but saw nothing, realized her face was pressed into flat dirt. So at least she wasn’t drifting in the vacuum. She flexed her arm and twisted herself; let out a shriek of pain at the motion.

On her side now, she panted, a pinprick of white-hot agony searing through her ribcage with each inhale. She drifted in and out of consciousness. 

Then she heard voices -- a chorus of voices, none of them addressing her directly.

“It looks like Starfleet, sir. But… not like anything regulation. Not that I’ve seen before.”

“She looks human. Is she human?”

“Sure is. But search me for what a human’s doing on this godforsaken piece of rock.”

“I might remind you, doctor, that you yourself are human.”

“Oh, you know what I meant.”

“Alright, enough. If she’s human and she’s Starfleet, it’s our priority to help her. Let’s beam her back up to the ship and we can continue the survey once we know where she came from.” 

Starfleet. The instinctual fear that had been keeping Yar awake flowed out of her.

When she came to for the second time, she was roused by the sounds of her own heartbeat, magnified by some equipment. She lay there listening, for a time. This was not the sound of a Romulan vessel.

Feeling it was probably alright to do so, she opened her eyes. Yar was lying on a bed in a dull, small sickbay. It looked like Starfleet, but also like no Starfleet vessel she’d seen. She searched her memory. No, not anything she’d seen in service, however, something about the room still pinged some distant memory, as if she’d seen a photo of it, or had heard it described to her. 

There was the sound of a door sliding open. Yar turned her head, craning her neck to see who had entered. It occurred to her that she was restrained in some fashion.

“Woah, hold still there.”

A man dressed in a short-sleeved blue shirt marked with Starfleet insignia floated into Yar’s field of vision. She tried to speak but her voice was gone.

“You’ve got severe bruising all over your body along with a minor sprain in your neck. You must have taken quite a fall, though I can’t imagine from where. I’ve given you a strong painkiller and strapped you down in case...” the main trailed off and shrugged. “Anyway, you’re safe here.”

Yar frowned, raised one wrist to feel a soft strap pulling against her. She tried again to speak, this time managing a low rasp.

“I’m lieutenant Natasha Yar. Chief security officer of the ...U.S.S. Enterprise. Please, I-- I need to contact my captain.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Did you say... the Enterprise?”

Yar tried to nod, was reminded of her injury, and opted instead to rasp a whisper of a “yes.”

“Here,” the man disappeared from her field of vision for a moment and returned with a small opaque cup. “Drink some water.” He held the cup to her mouth. “Slowly.”

Yar gulped the water, a few drops running down her chin and neck. The doctor pulled the cup away.

“Alright, lieutenant… Yar? Yar. I’m Doctor Leonard McCoy, chief medical officer of the-- er, of this ship. I’m going to get the captain down here and we’ll see what we can do for you.”

Yar relaxed fractionally. At least these people seemed to understand proper procedure. She closed her eyes and listened to the doctor’s footsteps becoming quieter, followed by the distant beep of a comm connection. He spoke to someone in a hushed tone, though Yar couldn't make out the words.

At the same time, she was aware of another presence approaching her bedside. She opened her eyes. 

A tall blonde woman in what Yar gathered passed for science blue on this ship was monitoring the vital signs display over Yar’s head.

She seemed to notice the lieutenant’s open eyes and offered a kind smile. 

“How are you feeling?” The blonde woman asked. 

It took Yar a moment to find her voice again. “Uh. Okay.”

The blonde’s eyes flashed to the straps around her Yar’s wrists. The lieutenant saw a trace of a frown, a sparing moment of consternation that reminded her vaguely of Doctor Crusher watching over her patients in the Enterprise sickbay.

A wave of homesickness crashed over her. 

At that moment Doctor McCoy returned, accompanied by two other men -- a stocky human wearing a gold tunic, and a tall, rail-thin Vulcan in blue. 

The shorter of the two strode confidently over to Yar’s bedside and addressed her. 

“Ms. Yar. How do you do?”

Yar nodded, blinking back pain.

“I understand you’re with Starfleet.”

“Yes.”

“My name is James T. Kirk. I’m the captain of this ship. What ship did you say you were assigned to, again?”

_Odd,_ thought Yar. _That name..._ “The Enterprise. Uh. Sir.”

She noticed one of the Vulcan’s eyebrows shoot upward at her remark. He and the captain shared a brief look, then Kirk continued. 

“Well, Ms. Yar… that is quite interesting. You see... this ship is the Enterprise. And I know for certain there was no lieutenant Yar included in our landing party when we found you. Furthermore… I don’t believe there is a lieutenant Yar currently assigned to this vessel. ”

Tasha went cold. This wasn't the Enterprise. It was impossible. She’d never heard of any of these people, and this sickbay was hopelessly outdated…

_Outdated._

Yar’s eye’s widened as she felt reality slipping into the cracks of her mind, cementing something there.

_Outdated._

_James T. Kirk._

“Oh… oh god. Captain! Sir! I… oh god…” 

McCoy glanced up at Tasha’s vital signs, then shrugged at Kirk. “Heart rate’s suddenly elevated, Jim.”

“Please, Ms. Yar. Relax. Just relax.” Kirk touched her forearm gently. “You’re in safe hands.”

The Vulcan spoke then, his voice deep and smooth and serious. “Is there something you wish to disclose, Ms. Yar?”

She stared at him. “And you’re… you’re Spock. Admiral Spock. Sir. Oh…”

“ _Admiral_ Spock?” Kirk gave his first officer a sideways glance.

“How in blazes does she know your name?” Hissed McCoy.

“Captain…” Yar looked at Kirk, swallowing her panic “I learned about you at the academy. You were a decorated admiral. You were… you taught…”

The look of confused sympathy that Kirk had been sporting melted into disbelief. Again, he looked at Spock as if using the Vulcan’s presence to ground himself. 

“Ms. Yar…” he said softly. “What is the current star date?”

“41089.2.” 

Kirk’s mouth fell slightly open, and McCoy let out a whistle. “Looks like you’re not in Kansas anymore, Ms. Yar.”


	2. Chapter 2

The stardate was 3467.9 according to the ship’s calendar on the U.S.S Enterprise when Tasha Yar was deemed fit for release from sickbay.

Doctor McCoy passed over her with a handheld scanner while Yar tried not to marvel too much at a device she’d only seen in the Starfleet Museum on the academy grounds. Nurse Chapel stood by, holding a PADD and recording Yar’s vitals.

“You’re in decent shape. Now, I suppose, we can get to the issue of what to do with you.”

McCoy looked on, arms crossed, as Yar swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Chapel rushed into an adjacent room and emerged a moment later holding Yar’s polished black boots.

The lieutenant pulled her boots on slowly, relishing a moment of normalcy in the midst of this fever dream. 

“Does Tasha have assigned quarters, Doctor?”

McCoy shrugged lightly. “Jim said there’s a free room near auxiliary control that she can use.” He turned to Yar. “Normally used for transporting diplomats and whatnot, but there isn’t a delegate in sight in this sector.”

Yar nodded. “Thank you.” She looked at Chapel. The nurse’s blue eyes shone, reflecting the color of her dress. Yar allowed herself the briefest glance down the length of Chapel’s legs.

“I can escort you,” said Chapel. Yar wondered if she'd been caught out. She smiled as wide as she could manage.

“Thank you, nurse.”

*****

“So…” Yar flailed for a topic of conversation, anything to break the awkward humming silence of the turbolift. McCoy had made certain, as per orders, that a security detail was assigned to her before she left sickbay, and now her, Chapel, and a young, sinewy man by the name of Thompson were making their way through the maze of decks leading to Aux Con. “So, what's it like working with James Kirk?”

Chapel’s eyes widened, then seeing Yar was serious, her face crinkled into a warm smile. She laughed delicately. “It’s… interesting.”

“I’m certain! I… my class at the academy got to read a few of his logs. The things you’ve encountered-- uh… and, will encounter…”

A flicker of mischief flashed across Chapel’s features for a second. “I suppose it’s nice to know that the captain lives to make Admiral.”

Yar opened her mouth, then closed it.

*****

The quarters that the captain had reserved for Yar were surprisingly spacious. Yar supposed it was to be expected, given they were reserved for dignitaries. Still, a _double bed._

She searched the drawers of the desk and dresser for her phaser, but found it still missing. She rather hoped it had simply been confiscated, but it seemed just as likely that it had fallen off at some point between her Enterprise and this Enterprise. A _significant_ chunk of time was missing, there.

For probably the tenth time since she’d come off the painkillers and been fully lucid, she tapped her insignia communicator. 

“Yar to Enterprise,” she said quietly. The silence of the room was enough of an answer. 

_I’m calling a ship that doesn’t exist,_ she thought.

*****

Yar was awakened after a few hours of fitful half-sleep by the beep of the ship’s comm panel. 

She sat up, pin straight, blinking. The panel beeped again.

The buttons were rudimentary, but unlabelled. A standard issue comm panel. She squinted, trying vaguely to remember schematics she’d seen in old textbooks at the Academy. 

She shrugged to herself and hit the far left button.

“Ms. Yar?”

“Uh...aye. Yar here.”

“This is captain Kirk. I’m calling a meeting in the conference room in five minutes. Please get ready, the ensign outside your room will escort you.”

“Okay. Yes sir.”

“Kirk out.”

*****

Three minutes later Yar was standing at the end of a long table, staring at the austere walls of the conference room. The guard who had been posted at her door stood opposite her, looking apprehensive. The door hissed, and Captain Kirk walked in, followed closely by Commander Spock. 

Yar straightened. “Sir.” She nodded.

“Please take a seat, Ms. Yar. I want to discuss… your predicament.”

Yar pulled up a seat and sat gingerly on the edge of the chair. Kirk sat opposite her, while Spock flicked on the central computer before settling into the chair next to the captain.

“Now Ms. Yar… do you remember anything about how you arrived on Verden 12?”

“Verden 12, sir?”

“The planet we picked you up from.”

“Oh. Um…” Yar looked at Spock, who was staring at her with an impenetrable expression. “I was on the Enterprise. Er, _my_ Enterprise. We were in the midst of a firefight with a Romulan ship that had run into Federation territory.” 

She noticed Spock turn his gaze momentarily to the captain. Their eyes met and widened fractionally, then both men turned back to the conversation at hand. 

“I detected a disturbance in one of the holo-- uh… a room in a lower deck, and went to check it out.”

“Ms. Yar, are you able to specify the type of disturbance to which you refer?” Spock’s voice was paradoxically gentle, and cold.

Yar nodded slowly. “It looked like… the flow of spacetime at those particular coordinates had been… uh, reversed. Any occurring particles were in an intense state of excitement. As if they were at an ultra-high temperature.”

She looked up at Spock. The man was a famous scientific mind even in her own time. If he didn’t recognize the anomaly in question, Yar was well and truly in over her head.

True to form, the half-Vulcan steepled his fingers and stared through Yar. 

“Mr. Spock?” This was the captain.

“A backward flow of spacetime within a very specific area does seem to suggest a possible time travel juncture,” Spock said. 

“But do the Romulans have that kind of technology?”

“Not likely in our own current era, captain. However, in Ms. Yar’s time such advancements may be possible.”

Kirk turned to look at her. “Well? How well do you know your Romulans, lieutenant?”

Yar shook her head. “I suppose it’s possible… but we certainly weren't aware of anything like this.”

Kirk nodded. Glanced at Spock. 

“So… now the question becomes… what do we do with you while we try to solve this mystery?”

Yar furrowed her brow, trying not to look distraught. She missed her own crew -- as much respect as she had for Jim Kirk and Spock, they weren't _her_ crew. 

“I’m more than qualified for security detail,” she offered.

Kirk looked at her with what might have been skepticism. “You’ll need to learn the workings of _this_ ship.”

“If someone’s willing to teach me, I can do that.”

Kirk nodded. “You’ll hear from Mr. Scott. In Engineering. Until then I must confine you to quarters.” He looked a little tired. Strained. “I’m sorry, but I have to follow security protocol. Surely… you, of all people, understand that.”

Yar nodded solemnly. She stood. “Will that be all, sir?”

“Yes, lieutenant. Dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir.”

*****

Yar was sitting on the bed, staring idly at the pattern of the sheets, when the door slid open. 

“Mr. Scott?” 

It was Chapel, holding a polymer tray laden with dishes. “Guess again,” she said.

“Oh, Nurse. ...hi.” Yar stood, wringing her hands awkwardly for a second before placing them firmly behind her back.

“Call me Christine.” Christine smiled warmly and placed the tray on the desk. “I...thought you might be hungry.”

Yar glanced at the tray. There was a plate piled with coloured cubes, alongside a small dish of soup, a glass of juice, and what looked like black coffee. 

God, it felt like eons since Yar had had a cup of coffee. She looked at Christine, her arms falling loose at her sides again. She felt a lump rise in her throat and swallowed it. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Christine was looking at her in a way that seemed terribly empathetic, but still somehow uncertain. The nurse stood as if rooted to the floor, though Yar got the sense that she was inclined to hug Yar, or at least touch her in some fashion. 

Yar grabbed the coffee cup, took a sip. It was almost too strong, and had that distinct flatness of replicated food. Still, it was hot, and it was coffee. Yar grinned. “Nothing like it.”

Chapel softened. “Glad you find it tolerable at least. I’m sure replicator technology has advanced greatly in your time.”

Yar laughed. “Well… we don’t really eat cubes anymore… but some things still just aren’t quite the same as homemade.”

The nurse chuckled, a slight, musical sound that was over too quickly. Yar was suddenly quite aware of her dirt-smudged uniform, and the fact that she hadn’t showered in 48 hours...possibly longer. 

She ran a hand through her hair and sat down at the desk, trying to avoid searching Christine for some hint of disgust.

“How are you, Tasha?” Christine looked serious now. “Um… may I call you Tasha?”

Yar looked up, thinking that the nurse could call her just about anything so long as she was calling her. “Yes. Please do.” She looked down at her plate, picked up a cube and squished it between two fingers. “I’m okay.”

Christine looked like she was about to say something else, but had decided against it. “Alright. I’ll let you eat.” She turned to leave. “Please… call me if you need anything. Just click the button for sickbay and ask for me.”

Yar smiled into her plate. “Aye aye, nurse.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Yar stood with her arms outstretched as a young ensign took her uniform measurements. Scotty’s first thought about her joining the Enterprise security team was that she should look the part. Yar had at least had the wherewithal to request a pants uniform, rather than one of those miniskirt affairs that, while certainly offering much in the way of eye candy, failed to strike her as proper security dress.

She felt heavy now, heavier with each snap of the beam device that the ensign was using to measure her limbs and neck. A new uniform -- an old uniform. Something about it felt too permanent, as if by putting it on she’d be resigning herself to a lifetime on _this_ Enterprise.

She must have been staring into space because the ensign straightened and cleared her throat loudly, tilting her head to make deliberate eye contact. 

“All done here, sir.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

The ensign, an Andorian, looked slightly unsure, but shrugged and placed the measuring beam back on a nearby table. “I’ll send your measurements to the replicator, your uniform should be ready to wear in an hour.”

Yar nodded and hurriedly left the room. 

*****

Engineer Scott was puzzling over some schematics on his computer screen when Yar walked in.

“Ah, got your uniform all sorted then?”

“Yes sir.”

“Listen lassie,” Scotty’s voice took on a low, conspiratorial tone. “I’m awfully sorry you have to go through all this. My only advice to you is that you keep yourself busy while you’re here.” Yar stood at attention. “On that note, go talk to lieutenant Fischer over there and he’ll direct you to some tasks that need doing.” 

Scotty angled his chin to indicate a stocky blonde who was standing at the control panel opposite the dilithium reactors.

“Aye sir. Thank you sir.”

*****

Days passed, then weeks, and bit by bit Yar became accustomed to her security reds, and her duties on the ship. 

Demotion to ensign also meant she no longer had the luxury of delegate transport quarters. Rather than have her bunk in with the rest of the security team, Christine had put in a request to have Yar share her quarters. With the captain’s and Scotty’s permission Yar had gratefully obliged. If she was going to have to share a bunk, at least she could have a roommate that she wouldn’t mind accidentally seeing in a state of undress.

Her and the nurse’s shifts were mostly staggered so it was rare that they were even in the room at the same time -- but on those evenings when she had the time, Christine always showed up with an evening meal to share.

“Wouldn’t you rather eat in the cafeteria?” Yar had asked on one of the earlier occasions.

Christine had looked thoughtful, then said, “we could but… I get enough of the boy’s club when I’m at work.” She smiled.

Yar looked at her then, tracing the line of soft yellow light from Chapel’s stately nose to the gentle curve of her narrow jaw. Her hair looked golden in the light, not like Yar’s so very terrestrial shade of wheat-blonde. Chapel’s hair was the colour of light bouncing off liquid gold, in the core of some distant, molten sun.

“What?” Chapel tilted her head quizzically.

Yar cleared her throat. “Nothing.”

They ate in silence for a while, then Yar blurted out “so… are you… y’know… seeing anybody?”

Chapel looked surprised. “Seeing anyone? Oh, no.”

“No one on this ship strikes your fancy?” Yar exaggerated a wink, hoping to pass her line off as a joke. 

She could swear the nurse went slightly red at the question. “Not necessarily. But those who do… are certainly not interested.”

Now Yar was intrigued. “Really? Who?”

The nurse looked down at her hands. She seemed to think for a long moment about whether this was a road she wanted to go down. Then shrugged and looked up. “Promise you won’t laugh.”

“I promise!”

“Well… I always thought Mr. Spock was lovely.”

Yar clapped a hand over her mouth, her fork clattering to the floor. “Spock? The Vulcan?”

“He’s only half Vulcan.” Christine looked defensive, and definitely red now. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I mean, I get it. Once, back on my Enterprise, I had sex with an android!”

“Really?” Now Christine looked shocked.

Yar waved a hand. “Yeah… it’s a long story. I’ll tell it to you sometime. But, Spock, eh? So… what’s his problem? Are you just not logical enough for him?”

Chapel laughed, and looked off to the side. “Not that…”

“Then what?”

“Well… I only know this because McCoy found out. You can’t tell a _soul_. I’m serious.”

“Not a soul,” Yar said, putting up her hands in mock surrender. Chapel searched her eyes, and seemed to find honesty there.

“Well, Spock and ...the captain, they’re uh… you know.” Chapel shrugged, raised her eyebrows.

“Already!?” Yar clapped a hand over her mouth. 

Chapel’s eyes narrowed slightly, then widened. “Wait… what do you mean, _already_?”

But Yar was shaking her head furiously. “No. I can’t, I’ve said too much.”

Christine continued to stare at her for a while, and Yar watched the woman’s gaze soften gradually, until it seemed safe to return her eye contact. Chapel’s eyes were icy blue, the colour of clear mountain water that Yar had seen only on one shore leave planet, very early out of her academy days.

And for a moment, Yar was back on that planet, in her own timeline, overwhelmed by beauty, floating. 

She felt small, suddenly. They were drifting in the blackness aboard aboard a tiny, insignificant ship.

She grabbed Christine’s hand.

The long, elegant fingers felt warm under hers, and Chapel’s breath seemed to pause in surprise. The nurse looked down at their hands, then back up to Yar. A smile flashed across Christine’s face, so kind, and so warm that Yar could swear she was touching an angel, or at least some far superior humanoid species.

Then Yar pulled away. 

“Are you okay?” Asked Christine for the umpteenth time since Yar’s untimely arrival.

“Yeah. I am. I’m just… still trying to get my bearings.” Yar nodded as if to drive home the point, for herself.

Chapel nodded also. They were silent for a moment as the nurse searched Yar’s face. Then she stood.

“Well, I should get back to sickbay.”

“Mhm.”

“I… I hope you get some decent rest.”

“Thanks… you too.”

Chapel nodded, and Yar watched the quick bounce of her hair at her shoulders until the door shut completely, leaving her alone.


	4. Chapter 4

“We’re detecting a ship -- 20,000 kilometres away at three o'clock, sir.” 

“Thank you Mr. Chekov. Spock, any indications from the scanner?”

“It’s Romulan, captain, though I cannot identify ship class. Lifesigns indicate only a skeleton crew. She is fully armed.”

“Uhura, open a hailing frequency.”

“Aye, sir.” “Frequency open, sir.”

“This is Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise -- Romulan vessel, you are in Federation space and therefore in violation of treaty stipulations. Please explain.”

A pregnant pause. 

“No answer, sir.”

“Enterprise to Romulan vessel. I repeat. Explain your incursion or we will open fire.”

Silence. 

“Nothing.”

“Put all decks on Yellow Alert. Mr. Chekov, fire phasers, give ‘em a warning shot.”

“Aye, Captain.”

*****

Yar was awakened roughly by the sounding of the Yellow Alert. She didn’t immediately recognize the designation, but she certainly knew a ship’s alarm when she heard one. 

She rolled off her bunk, where she’d fallen asleep in an oversized black undershirt that Christine had pilfered from wardrobe, and pulled on her uniform piece by piece. 

Affixing her useless communicator to her chest, she stepped out of the room without so much as a glance in the mirror.

The deck hall was a flurry of activity, with crewmen in various colours and various states of undress rushing toward various posts. Yar grabbed a passing man by the shoulder and barked “what’s going on?”

The man, really a boy, though taller than Yar, looked taken aback but shrugged into his answer: “Romulan ship.” Then he jerked his shoulder back and continued on his way.

Yar stood in the middle of the hall for a moment. Her head was suddenly filled with visions of the Enterprise bridge -- _her_ Enterprise bridge. The way it had rattled with the force of the warning shot hitting the shields. The cold, unflinching look of the Romulan captain on the view screen. The look on Beam’s face right before he’d disappeared.

“Say, lassie, you alright?”

Yar’s eyes snapped upward to meet Commander Scott’s worried gaze. “Uh. Fine. Yes, sir.”

“Right, well, we need you down in Engineering so best you be on your way.”

“Right. Aye, sir.”

Moments later Yar was in engineering, just soon enough to catch Captain Kirk’s voice sounding on the comm. 

“Scotty, are you prepared to give full power to phasers?”

“Aye sir,” Scott was saying, fingers twitching across his control panel.

“Thank you Scott. Wait for my signal. Kirk out.”

Then came a long moment of tension wherein the whole ship seemed to hold her breath. The eye of the storm. Yar stood to attention near one of the torpedo tubes, making haphazard eye contact with another young ensign.

Soon it seemed like they’d been waiting too long. Finally, Scott strode over to the comm panel and pressed the button to talk. 

“Engineering to bridge.”

“Kirk here.”

“We’re standing at the ready -- what’s going on up there?”

“They’re not returning fire.” There was a pause. “Say, Scotty, do you have Ms. Yar down there with you?”

“Aye sir, she’s stationed at the torpedos.”

Another pause, longer. Yar got the impression that Kirk was having a simultaneous conversation with someone on the bridge.

“Would you send her up to the briefing room?”

“Aye sir.” Scotty gave Yar a wide-eyed look, and a shrug. 

*****

A few slightly frantic moments later Yar was pulling up a chair across the table from Captain Kirk and Commander Spock. She tried not to look at them differently, given the new information she’d received from Christine.

“Sir?”

“Yes, thank you for coming, Natasha.”

The first time the Captain had used her first name, thought Yar. Must be serious. Kirk continued.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, we’ve come into proximity with a Romulan ship.”

“Aye, sir.”

“I know you have had contact with the Romulans in… your own timeline.”

“Aye, sir.”

Spock spoke up, now. “For you to describe to us the future of relations between the Federation and the Romulan Empire in any sort of detail could be catastrophic on levels of both ship wide morale, and the logic of the spacetime continuum. That said, the ship we have encountered is unfamiliar to us, and we have reason,” Spock gave Kirk a subtle glance and a brief raised eyebrow, “to believe that the ship may have become displaced in a similar manner to yourself.”

“Sir?”

Spock pressed a button and pulled up the live video feed from the bridge display. In the blackness, a ship floated, green and hollowed-out, eerie lights blinking on the tips of its wings. Yar stared at it, feeling fear rising in the pit of her stomach. She pushed it back.

“That’s Romulan alright.”

“So you recognize the ship.”

“Yes, Sir. It’s a standard Romulan bird of prey, where… _when_ I come from.”

The captain and commander looked at one another. 

“Ms. Yar,” said Kirk, “I need you to describe exactly what you remember occurring before we located you on that planet.”

Yar looked both captain and commander in the eye, then drew in a breath.

Her explanation was short — she didn’t have much to say. They’d been engaged in a firefight with a single warbird, she’d spotted the anomaly on her scanners and gone to investigate.

The captain and his first officer looked at her for a long moment after she’d finished.

“Were you in communication with the Romulans on board the vessel from your own Enterprise?”

“Yes sir. Not for long, but we did have a stable hailing frequency.” 

Spock leaned back in his chair. The Captain looked to his Commander. “Spock… do you…?”

Spock nodded subtly, his brown eyes boring into Yar. She held his gaze.

“Lieutenant. Do you think you would be able to adjust the communications equipment on this Enterprise to be compatible with that of the Romulan vessel?”

“I… Sir. I can’t say for certain unless I know exactly what you’re dealing with onboard.”

“We understand that, Ms. Yar. With lieutenant Uhura’s help, I can provide you with full schematics as well as detailed usage instructions for the onboard communications systems. However, due to the risk of temporal paradoxes, no one on the Enterprise will be permitted to help you with the adjustments. If it is possible, you will be fully responsible.”

Yar swallowed. She felt cold. But somewhere in the back of her mind was a voice shouting that this was her only hope. If the Romulans didn’t have an answer, no one ever would. 

She nodded. “Aye, sir. I’ll do my best.”

A look of relief, or maybe excitement passed briefly over the captain’s features. Spock nodded curtly. “I will consult lieutenant Uhura immediately. Stand by to return to the briefing room to receive the necessary documents.”

“Aye, Sir.”

*****

Yar scarcely remembered the walk back to her quarters. She scarcely remembered opening the door, coming in, tapping her fingers on her Starfleet badge communicator. 

She stood in the entrance to her quarters and looked at Christine. 

“I heard you got called up to the briefing room,” the nurse said. She was holding a cup of some blue liquid. Behind her, a tray of food sat cooling on the desk.

“Yeah.”

“What was it?”

“The Romulan ship is… they think it’s from my time.”

Chapel’s eyes widened.

“They want me to try to reconfigure the comm systems. The ship’s too advanced, it can’t get a hauling frequency matched with this Enterprise.”

Christine’s face was lined with concern, and more so, a terrible understanding. 

“Do they think the Romulans know how to get back to your time?”

“I don’t know what they think… but I do.”

Christine glanced away. Her fists were balled against the front of her uniform. Yar’s years of training in restraint and mental fortitude were at war against a desire to grab Christine, hold onto her, press herself against the nurse.

A shaking moment and Yar realized that if it was ever going to happen, it had to happen now. 

She grabbed Chapel by the shoulders and closed the space between them. The nurse helped, fingers lacing together behind Yar’s back. 

“I…” 

“Can I…?”

“Yes…”

Their lips met evenly. Chapel’s mouth was soft, and warm, and tasted faintly of mint. Yar lingered with the kiss, trying to prolong this moment, the first she’d left her Enterprise in which everything had felt right.

At length, they parted, and Christine looked into Yar’s eyes with a remote kind of sadness, before glancing away.

Yar moved her hands up to her shoulders, gripped; pulled. Christine looked at her again.

“I…” the nurse started. “I’ve never… with another woman.”

“It’s okay,” said Yar. “I haven’t had that much time, myself.”

Yar removed her hands, stood for a moment, then went and sat at the desk. She looked at the tray of food.

“Is this for me?”

Chapel spun around, and nodded as if she hadn’t yet regained the ability to speak.

“You’re so nice to me,” said Yar quietly, staring into the plate.

Chapel sat on the other side of the desk. “I could say the same about you.”

“You thought that was nice?” Yar asked. She looked up at Christine, brightening. 

“Yes. I did.” Christine was smiling now, and Yar felt as if the sun had risen in their quarters. 

Yar managed a single bite of her food before the comm panel beeped. “Ms. Yar, this is the captain. We have the schematics, please report to the briefing room to receive them.”

“Aye, Captain.”

She looked at the nurse and shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand.”

“Do me a favour and eat that, okay?”

“Who’s taking care of who?”

“Can’t it be equal?”

That got a smile. Yar, satisfied, turned to walk through the door.


	5. Chapter 5

It took a few hours, but after leafing through an entire digitized book of communications schematics, and consulting Lieutenant Uhura for practical advice at least four times, Yar felt she had enough of a grasp on the situation to effect some changes. 

“Why do you think they’re still here?” She asked Uhura quietly, looking up from the PADD. The Romulan ship appeared to be floating dead in space, in some sort of cold war with the Enterprise. 

Uhura shrugged. “I can’t say. My guess is that they’ve realized that they’re in the wrong timeline from looking at our ship, and are trying to figure out some sort of plan.”

Yar stared at the ship in the viewscreen. She couldn’t tell if its stillness made it more, or less threatening.

The captain walked onto the bridge at that moment, making a beeline for Uhura’s station. “How’s it going?”

“I think I understand enough to try something, captain.”

“Good. Uhura, please vacate your station so Ms. Yar can attempt to alter it. Head to your quarters or the recreation hall, just let me know so I can give you a call when she’s finished.”

“Aye sir.”

“Yar, get to it.”

“Yes, captain.”

Uhura stood up with a smile and made a dramatic gesture for Yar to sit down at the console. “These changes had better be reversible,” she said in a mock-threatening tone.

“They’d better be,” said Yar. 

She sat down at the console, book of schematics still in hand. This was going to be a test, that was for certain. She began by lifting the front panel of the console, exposing the wiring within. Then, using the schematics guide as a map, she began pulling out wires.

*****

“Communications back on-line, sir.” Yar tried to keep the tremble from her voice. The work had gone as smoothly as she could have expected, though Captain Kirk’s insistence on standing near the bridge entrance, pacing, and occasionally asking her how it was going, had made the past half-hour seem like far longer.

If Spock had been around she was certain the Vulcan would have knocked some sense into his boyfriend, but the Commander had retreated to his quarters in order to read up on Federation intelligence with regards to Romulan technological progress. He’d mentioned something about trying to roughly predict the capabilities of the ship they were facing.

Yar wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead. The captain was on her back immediately.

“Will it work?”

“I can’t be sure, sir, but I’m reasonably confident we’ll be able to get some sort of signal. Now you just have to pray that the Romulan language hasn’t evolved past the abilities of your universal translator in the past century.”

Kirk rubbed a spot on his chin. “Okay. Thank you, ensign.”

 _Ensign,_ thought Yar. _He must be really disappointed in me._ she stepped back from the console, making up prayers to whatever deities would have them.

Kirk was at his chair making a ship-wide announcement. “Lieutenant Uhura and Commander Spock to the bridge, please. On the double.”

The pair swished simultaneously through the bridge doors two minutes later. 

“How’d it go?” Uhura was looking at Yar as if the blonde woman had just performed surgery on her child. 

“Okay, I think,” said Yar. “At any rate, if it doesn’t work it’ll be easy to restore your settings.”

“Good.” Uhura nodded in satisfaction, and sat down at the console. Yar stood behind her, waiting to provide guidance on the frequencies. 

“Uhura,” said Kirk, “please open a hailing frequency.”

“Aye sir.”

There was a loud crunch of feedback over the ship’s sound system. Uhura squinted, and craned her neck, useless physical reactions, but they seemed to help when she was trying to hear something. 

Finally, the lieutenant gave a slight start, and turned to Kirk excitedly. “Captain! They’re sending out… what I think is a distress signal!”

“Overhead, Lieutenant.”

There was no visual to display, but a Romulan-accented voice sounded suddenly, booming across the bridge.

“Romulan vessel Daha’tuhk. Ask… aid. We have change time process. Come from after today. Your ship… Enterprise crewmember… as well after today. May… capable...aid.”

Kirk squinted, and looked back at Yar.

“Sir, it sounds like your translator is skipping words it doesn’t recognize, or at least filling in the gaps with similar words.”

Kirk shrugged. “It’ll have to do.” He turned his attention back to the ship on screen. “Romulan vessel, this is Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise. We have, onboard our ship, the crew member to which you refer. She is from your timeline as well. She claims she was transported by you.”

“Possible transport. Aid… we. We used Iconian portal tool… create portal on Enterprise. Not intended. Accident. Help us… we can help you. Return crew member.”

As the Romulan’s speech went on Yar realized it was getting slightly clearer. She looked at Kirk, who seemed to be realizing the same thing, and beamed at her.

“We’re having some interference here, say again, Romulan vessel?”

There was a pause, then the voice resumed. “This… Captain Var’toth, Romulan vessel Daha’tuhk. We have located you due to your anachronistic crewmember. Their transportation here is our fault. We utilized Iconian portal technology with the intent of getting the Enterprise out of our way, however, due to a misreading of the power fluctuations, we opened two simultaneous portals of irregular size - one that appeared in a localized zone on the Enterprise, and one that engulfed our own ship. We were dropped off a few thousand light years from Verden 4, while your crewmember ended up on the surface of Verden 12.”

“Wait!” Yar spoke, then glanced at Kirk. He seemed taken aback, but shrugged and waved her on. She continued. “How were you able to track me? How did you have any idea where I was going?”

“Humans call it… luck, I believe. The Iconian portals leave a very specific type of magnetic residue on anyone, or anything, that passes through them. We noticed the signature in our ship’s self-diagnostic readings. We noticed it again as we passed over Verden 12, and matched it to yours while scanning the Enterprise.”

“Wait… you were able to detect my signature still on Verden 12?” Yar was now unabashedly holding court on the bridge. Kirk had taken a seat in his chair and was watching intently, though he made no move to intervene. 

“Not your signature. The portal signature. The portal that you passed through still exists on Verden 12, though if our calculations are correct it will decay beyond usability in roughly 24 hours.”

Yar opened her mouth, but couldn’t find any words. Kirk noticed, stood, took control once again. “Why are you telling us this, Var’toth? Of what benefit is it for you to help us send this woman back to her own timeline?”

 

“She must be sent back. She knows a great deal about the technology that your federation will have access to many years from now. If she is allowed to stay and impart that knowledge earlier, the damage to the future Romulan empire would be incalculable. We cannot allow the Federation to advance beyond our own people in the given amount of time.”

Yar nearly screamed, why not just kill me, then?, but restrained herself. Kirk turned to her briefly, and in the brief moment of eye contact they shared she knew he was thinking the same thing. 

The Romulan captain continued. “We would also prefer to be returned to our own timeline. The portal’s energy spikes at the moment an object passes through it. While it is currently too weak to transport our entire ship, we believe that when your extra crewmember returns to her timeline, the portal will briefly be strong enough for us to also return.”

Kirk faced the Romulan captain and nodded. “Very well. I need to discuss this with my crew. Let’s… reconvene in an hour, and I’ll have your answer.”

“It is our only option, Captain Kirk.”

*****

“Have you run the calculations, Spock?” Kirk addressed his first officer as he sat down in his briefing room chair, cup of coffee in hand. 

Scotty, Sulu, and Yar sat expectantly across the table from the captain and his first officer. 

“Yes, captain. While the models are based off of hypothetical information and a great deal of hearsay, I believe that the Romulans are telling the truth, and if that is the case, then their timeline appears to be correct within a fairly narrow standard deviation. If lieutenant Yar wishes to return to her timeline, time is indeed of the essence.”

“Scotty, can you get us back to Verden 12 within 24 hours?”

“It’ll be cuttin’ it close, sir, but I think I can, aye.”

“Sulu, is retracing our steps the fastest course?”

“I think I can shave an hour or two off of our time -- with a higher warp factor, of course. I can run us closer to Verden alpha for a slingshot.”

“Good.” Kirk turned to Yar. “Ms. Yar. We’ve… all appreciated your service aboard this vessel, but I’m sure you’d prefer to be back home. Do you consent to re-entering the portal? We can’t... guarantee a safe passage. But it appears to be your only choice.”

Yar looked at the faces around the room. She’d come to know all of them, and to respect them. She supposed, given more time, this could eventually be her home. And yet, the Enterprise-D, Picard, Deanna… Data… she hadn’t let go of them. She couldn’t. In her pocket, she felt the cool weight of her badge communicator, longed for it to come to life again. 

“Yes sir.” She looked Kirk in the eye. “I’d like to go home.”


	6. Chapter 6

Yar felt like jelly as she returned to her quarters, sitting down heavily on the edge of her bunk, still in her boots. She’d left Kirk on the bridge to deal with the diplomacy, and shortly later had heard the announcement that they were reversing course back to Verden 12. 

She held onto the frame of the bed as the ship entered warp, jarring its passengers momentarily before all trace of movement was once again forgotten. 

The door hissed, and Christine walked in. 

“Hi,” she said, standing in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee. 

“Hi,” said Yar, not daring to look up. 

There was a silence, as both women seemed to search for something to fill it with. Finally, Christine kicked off her shoes and sat down on the bed next to Yar. “Coffee?” She said, passing one of the cups to her companion. 

Yar took it from her mechanically and sipped. It tasted better than it had when she’d first tasted the ship’s food. A jolt of fear passed through her. Was she getting used to it?

“How long… how long until we get to the planet?”

Yar looked at the ship’s chronometer embedded in the wall comm unit. “21.5 hours.”

“Not long,” said Chapel.

Another silence. Yar took another sip of coffee, but found she couldn’t stomach it. She placed the cup on the floor, and turned to Christine. 

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For… being here, I guess.” Yar turned away. “I haven’t had that many friends, in my life.” She turned back and looked Christine in the eye. “Most of the people I’ve ever cared about are on the Enterprise-D. It won’t even be built for almost a century. All of them... they’re not even born yet. Hell, half their _parents_ haven’t been born.”

Christine was looking at her with something like an apology, and the shine of it gutted Yar’s chest. 

“But you’re here,” she continued. “You make me feel like I could stay here, and be okay. Like, maybe I could make a home here.” A pause. “I know it’s impossible, but… the feeling’s there.” Yar fell silent, embarrassed to end her speech on what seemed like such a flat, lame note.

She felt Chapel’s hand on her shoulder, then elegant fingers lifting her chin, then blue eyes filled her vision and she shut her own, focusing her entire mind on the feeling of Chapel’s warm, soft lips on hers. 

There was nothing else in the universe but her and Chapel, and Yar wanted to grab hold of this before it, too, was torn away from her. 

Her fingers moved up Chapel’s back and into her delicate blonde hair, threading their way into her bun loosening the locks. 

Chapel pulled back and smiled at Yar. Her eyes were wet, but her lips spoke more urgently to the lieutenant. 

Yar kissed her again, and pushed her onto the narrow bed behind them. “Are you…” She faltered. “Do you want this?”

Chapel swallowed, nodded. She pushed herself back onto the bed, letting her back come to rest against the pillow, and spread her knees apart, a position which afforded little coverage from the blue mini dress. 

A jolt of electricity passed through Yar, and though something in the back of her mind was telling her she probably shouldn’t have let things go this far, she was already running a hand up the inside of Chapel’s thigh and had relinquished that decision to the nurse.

She pulled her own red tunic up over her head, pausing to toss it to the floor and watch as Chapel struggled slightly to unzip the back of her dress. 

Yar leaned forward to help the nurse, and a flurried struggle ensued, each woman tugging at fabric and zippers, shifting and pulling back until there was nothing left, and both were exposed. Yar let a gentle gaze flutter up and down her body, watching Chapel’s eye’s widen, turn melancholy. 

“God, I wish…” she said, but extinguished the phrase with another kiss.

Slower, this time, they pushed together. Yar, stronger, pinned Chapel onto the bed and took one small, pink nipple in her mouth, then the other. Chapel’s breath quickened, but she kept silent, chest heaving. Yar curled inward, peppering the nurse’s stomach with small kisses, trailing lower. With one final look, a raised eyebrow, a nod, Yar opened her mouth against Chapel’s clit, pressing gently with her tongue. 

Now, Chapel made a sound, and it was as musical as every word that came from her mouth. Yar lingered there, not moving for a moment, waiting for some signal from the nurse. She felt long, slender fingers threading through her short hair, clasping and gently tugging. 

So Yar responded with slow, gentle strokes, quickening her pace only when Chapel pushed into her with desperation.

The nurse’s small sounds quickly became cries, and Yar pressed her fingers into the flesh of Chapel’s hips as she lapped at the nurse’s pussy. Chapel’s breathing became heavy, labored, before she stiffened and cried out with such intensity that Yar feared that the sound would be audible to any hallway passersby. The nurse’s fingers twisted in Yar’s hair and after a time she pulled Yar up to meet her, pressing their mouths together. 

Yar shut her eyes and breathed in Chapel’s skin, her hair, not really wanting anything aside from the kiss. Chapel pulled back, her eyes asking the question anyway.

Yar looked at her for a long time, trying to conjure some sense of need or urgency from within herself, but there was none. She leaned back against the wall of the bunk and closed her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” she said finally.

“Sorry?” Chapel sounded scared. “For what?”

“For… I don’t know. For doing this to you. For having to go away.”

“No,” said Chapel, crawling up to rest against Yar. “No, no no. You don’t get to be sorry. I started this.”

“You…?”

“I could have let you have your own quarters. I could have left you alone or ignored you.”

Yar almost laughed. “Could you have?” She looked at Chapel. The woman was somehow even more elegant now, naked and slightly flushed. 

Chapel smiled crookedly. “Probably not.”

They fell silent, listening to the low hum of the ship’s engines, and each other’s breathing. Chapel’s fingers found their way slowly down Yar’s stomach and pushed into the soft patch of brown hair on her mound. Yar pressed her lips onto the crown of Chapel’s head and the nurse pressed her fingers deeper, curling over Yar’s sex, gliding easily. 

Yar drew in a deep breath, nodding gently into Chapel’s hair, urging her to continue. The nurse made up for her lack of experience with a quiet, inquisitive enthusiasm. 

“Is this okay?” She asked, and Yar nodded. 

She asked it again, Yar nodded, lazily, bucking her hips into Chapel’s fingers.

She asked it a third time and Yar could barely stutter “mhm,” her fingers curling into the bedsheets as she fucked Chapel’s hand desperately.

A moment later Yar vaguely sensed that Chapel was about to ask again, but the point quickly became moot as the tension that had been building exploded and crashed in waves over her, huffing fragmented cries as she came.

Chapel kissed her cheek, her lips trailing down to Yar’s chin as the lieutenant’s head tilted back. They rested against the bulkhead for a time, breathing gently, the terror of uncertainty momentarily forgotten.

Eventually Yar realized that Christine had fallen asleep. She gently moved the nurse into a horizontal position and pulled the blankets up over her shoulder, then went into the shared bathroom to wash up. 

When she returned to the room Chapel had turned over, her back facing outward. Yar thought of kissing her goodnight, but didn’t, climbed into her own bunk and adjusted the light settings to 10 percent. 

I could just stay. She let the thought sit in her mind, rolling it over, knowing it was not true. 

She saw Chapel’s eyes, as clear as in sunlight, pleading with her. 

But the nurse’s eyes were replaced with those of Beverly Crusher, then Deanna Troy, then Data’s oddly charming synthetic lenses. Yar missed them all. She missed them desperately, in a way that had not lessened since she’d come here. 

Chapel was beautiful and kind, but Chapel was not hers. 

Yar drifted off to sleep with her badge communicator in one hand.


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing Yar did upon waking up was check the time. 

Just over 10 hours until Verden 12 orbit. She hadn’t been told how to make herself useful until that time, so she dressed and went down to Engineering. Christine made a sound as the doors to their quarters opened, but she did not awaken.

Scotty put her on security detail, but after about 20 minutes standing at her post she was summoned to the briefing room. 

“Captain,” she said, nodding at Kirk as she took a seat across from him and Spock. Both looked serious, though Yar thought she detected a trace of something like sadness on Kirk’s face. 

“Good morning, Miss Yar. As I’m sure you know, we’re on schedule to reach Verden 12 in nine hours. The Romulans have been following us at a regular distance, and so far haven’t given us any reason to distrust their motives.” 

Yar nodded.

Spock said, “Var’toth has provided us with the details of their plan to utilize the portal. Their ship’s passage will have to be perfectly timed in order to take advantage of the increase in quantum field energy. I have completed the necessary calculations, and found that in order to perfect the timing, we will have to beam you directly into the portal from the ship’s transporter.”

“Okay.”

“An officer will arrive at your quarters to escort you to the transporter room at 0900 hours. Please ensure you have everything that you initially brought with you from your own time, and that everything you acquired while here, including your uniform, is left behind.” Spock leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together.

“Aye, sir.”

“Thank you, Yar,” said Kirk. “We’ll be there to see you off. Your… service, aboard this Enterprise… has been appreciated.”

Yar nodded curtly, and stood up, feeling as if she might cry. 

*****

When she arrived back in her and Chapel’s quarters, the nurse was gone. Her bunk was neatly made up and a half-empty cup of cooling coffee sat forlorn on the desk. 

Yar stood in the room, wringing her hands, unsure of what to do. She wanted to go see Christine, but she also had a sense that any attempt to prolong the goodbye would only make it more painful. She wanted to remember the nurse as she’d known her last night -- soft, and warm, and welcoming, a private version of herself. 

If she’d had anything to her name she could have spent the time packing, but her only possessions were her uniform and the communicator badge. 

Yar changed hastily out of her red engineering uniform and back into her yellow security outfit. A thrill of sorrow crept through her as she realized it was now less comfortable than the old-fashioned red shirt. So she had gotten used to this life. 

She folded the red shirt and black trousers neatly and laid them on the top bunk. Then she left the room and headed to the cafeteria to find out if these replicators could synthesize a stiff whiskey. 

*****

0900 hours arrived after what felt like eons. Yar was sitting in the still-empty quarters when a young ensign with bright orange hair came in. 

“Lieutenant Yar? I’m here to escort you to the transporter room. Please, uh, gather everything you need.”

“Done, ensign.” Yar stood up and followed him out, refusing herself a final look back at the room. 

The transporter room was quiet when she arrived. Kirk and Scotty stood at the control panel, and nodded at her as she came in. Yar wondered briefly where Spock was, but realized that someone would have to be on the bridge, communicating with the Romulan ship. 

“Ready to go, Ms. Yar?” Kirk asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, sir.” She stepped up onto the platform, hand reaching reflexively to touch her communicator. 

Spock’s voice crackled over the comm, then. “Bridge to transporter room.”

“Scotty here!”

“The Romulan ship is in position. On my count, you will activate the transporter. Are you ready to begin?”

“Aye sir.”

The room was silent and still. Yar looked around, suddenly compelled to memorize every facet of this strange, old ship. Her eyes were trailing across the control panel when the door hissed open.

Christine Chapel rushed in and came to a full stop right before the transporter platform.

“Three,” said Mr. Spock.

Yar looked at the nurse. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she just smiled. 

“Two.”

Chapel smiled back at her, and Yar didn’t need to remember anything else about the room. The rest would fade from her memory, but Chapel’s golden face, frozen in happiness, was all she really wanted anyway. 

“One.”

The shimmering sound of the transporter engulfed her senses as Yar focused on the remaining split second she had to look at Chapel. The nurse didn’t move, but kept smiling, and then everything disappeared.

*****

“No lasting trauma… “

“Her mind… shut down to protect itself.”

“Oh, she’s coming to.”

Yar opened her eyes. Beverly Crusher’s hair was dangling precariously close to her face as the doctor ran a hand scanner over her torso. 

“Mm… Doctor Crusher…”

“Hello, Tasha. I’m glad you could join us again!” Crusher straightened and smiled warmly at her.

Yar blinked. She was prone on a med bay bed, her head and shoulders propped up on the incline. Worf and Deanna were standing a few paces back, out of Crusher’s way. 

“How do you feel?”

“Huh? Oh…” Yar took stock of herself mentally. She felt groggy, and stiff, but not as injured as when McCoy had woken her up. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“Good. It looks like you were out for about 10 minutes, and you might have some bruises from falling.”

“What… happened?”

“We’re not entirely sure. You went to investigate the anomaly in the holodeck, then according to Worf you disappeared for a few seconds. When you came back you were unconscious. He brought you up here. Judging from the magnetic signature, we suspect that the Romulans attempted to use an Iconian portal, but they were unsuccessful.”

Worf chimed in. “Their plot backfired -- the Romulan ship disappeared just as you did, but it did not return. Ensigns Beam, Yeung, and Nakano are recovering.”

Yar shut her eyes. Did not return? She found herself feeling a strange sort of concern for the Romulans. They had only been trying to get back home. Had their plan failed? Or had they simply been transported further away?

The blackness behind her eyelids filled with Christine’s face and for a moment she forgot all about the Romulans, the Federation, and the Enterprise crew. With her eyes shut she was home -- though she knew that home no longer existed, that Christine Chapel had probably died many years ago. 

“Tasha… are you sure you’re alright?” Deanne came up to the side of the bed. 

Yar looked at her and smiled weakly. 

“Counselor… you might not believe me. But, boy… do I have a story for you.”

Deanna’s face warmed. “I look forward to hearing it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! And special thanks to @obscureenthusiast on Tumblr for creating some awesome art to go with this story!


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